Fixing You, Fixing Me (Connor x Reader) - Detroit: Become Human
by TheMonsterMoxie
Summary: You work in android repair, post-revolution. Your most frequent patient is the prototype RK800 - Connor, visiting every few weeks with a new injury from work. With each visit, you grow closer and learn more about each other. You slowly come to realize that there's more to him than meets the eye, and that perhaps you're not just fixing him. Maybe, just maybe, he's fixing you too.
1. Chapter 1

Working in android repair has always been an interesting job, and has kept you captivated despite the low starting pay. You started out doing basic maintenance and testing, simple things like bugs and glitches, or small components that needed to be replaced. As the years went on, however, androids improved and became better at running diagnostics on themselves, often allowing them to fix those small issues on their own. Not only that, but many low level repair workers had been replaced by other androids. Fortunately, you just barely managed to escape this as your skills had become more refined and specialized, getting you into higher paying (and less replaceable) positions.

During the time of the revolution, your skills were highly valued as, at the time, androids were less trusted, and many of the androids working with you were destroyed in camps. You were often tasked to analyze and deconstruct deviants - something you weren't too eager about, but fascinating work nonetheless. Many assumed that it was some kind of virus that was being transferred from android to android, possibly via the internet or other means of connection. But no matter how much you dug around in these deviants systems, you couldn't find any evidence to support this hypothesis. It became clear to you that whatever this "deviance" was, it went much deeper than some virus or bug in the programming.

Change came very rapidly after the success of the android revolution. It was a peaceful one, you had watched the news all night when the final confrontation took place. The singing of the last few remaining rebels, held at gunpoint with no chance of fighting back, put chills down your spine. You knew that there was something more to androids than even you, someone who worked with them for years, could have expected. After the president officially declared them as a new form of intelligent life, nothing was ever the same. New legislation came about seemingly by the minute. Androids were given equal rights in the eyes of the law, people began to release their androids from their homes, sending them out on their own. Things weren't easy, in fact trying to integrate androids as regular people was well… challenging, to say the least. Despite the growing public support, there was still incredible resistance. Many still assaulted androids in the streets, and still viewed them as machines despite the living proof that they were conscience. The whole transition was messy for everybody.

Your job didn't necessarily change much. You no longer worked for Cyberlife, as their headquarters and factories were acquired by the government so that a private company couldn't have control over android reproduction. You ended up creating your own independent practice for everything from low level maintenance to high risk surgeries. Despite this, not much changed in what you actually did, but the way it was viewed changed drastically. Instead of being seen as what was essentially a mechanic, you were elevated to a similar status as a human doctor or surgeon. Now that androids were widely viewed as equal to humans, their lives mattered just as much. The pressure of your job increased dramatically as, suddenly, it wasn't just machines anymore. It was real sentient lives being put into your hands. It caused you a lot of stress that you rarely had to face before. And nothing caused you stress quite like your most frequent returning patient.

Connor.

Or, RK800, if you want to be clinical about it. This particular android found himself inside the walls of your office more times than you could count. You stopped keeping track after the 30th time or so. But that's alright, you could simply ask him how many times he's visited, and after a moment of calculation he would regurgitate a number back to you. This was amusing to you, how he so frankly recited his number of visits without noticing how absurdly high the number had gotten. Connor simply didn't see the humor in this kind of thing - to his sharp, logical mind it was merely another cold, hard fact that he kept track of. He wasn't all cold, hard facts, however. You knew, even before the revolution, that he was much deeper than that. You saw a softness in his eyes, a complexity, as if he were always lost in thought. You got to know him over the many times he found himself in your clinic. The cases he worked on, his interests outside of work, his close bond with Hank (who had all but adopted him at this point), his love for dogs, and so much more.

It almost became a routine. Every few weeks was a new injury. Bullet holes, cuts, burns or even missing limbs altogether. It was fortunate that androids didn't feel pain, because some of the injuries you saw him come in with were just gruesome. You knew that his line of work was dangerous, but you wondered how on earth he managed to get himself hurt so often. It's not that you didn't know what got him hurt - no, that was made very clear to you every time Connor came in, he would immediately share with you whatever had taken place to earn him this injury. No, it was the frequency with which he got himself into trouble that bothered you. It was a burning question that went unanswered for so long. You had asked him before, with a tone of humor, why he was in your office so often. In return, you received a response like, "It's simply a consequence of my job, Dr. (Last Name). Negotiating and interrogating criminals, as well as investigating crime scenes often puts me into danger." To which you rolled your eyes, and told him for the millionth time to call you by your first name. You were never about formalities, even with patients. Thankfully, over the many visits Connor had become more casual with you, which made the frequent visits more enjoyable.

This particular visit stood out to you though. Connor came in with a relatively minor cut across his hand. It was definitely a deep cut, something that would cause a human lots of pain. But compared to the other injuries that Connor had come in with, it was basically a paper cut. Not only that, but it was something that Hank could have easily taken care of with his first aid kit back at home. You gave the investigator a skeptical look, which he returned with his normal, puppy dog stare. The corners of your lips raised slightly, and you said sarcastically, "What, did you come in here just to see me?"

Connor looked away from you, and for a brief moment you saw his LED flash yellow. It went back to its typical blue, and he quickly replied with, "No, it's just that I figured even a small injury should be given medical attention, just in case."

Its nearly impossible to tell when an android lies, especially Connor, because his job often requires it. But something about the brief flash of yellow, and his odd response made you skeptical. But you didn't push the subject, simply moved on, asking him about how Sumo was doing, getting an eager response out of him as usual. You quickly sealed up the cut and wiped off the remaining thirium. You lingered for a moment, holding his hand in yours. His gentle touch and warm skin was indistinguishable from a human. You knew that androids couldn't feel pain, but you were always very delicate anyway. He looked up at you inquisitively, as you still held his hand in yours even after you had already done your job. You quickly let go and started up a chat.

Despite the short time it took to bring him back to tip top shape, you sat and talked a little while. It was a slow day at the clinic, so you didn't mind sparing the extra time. Especially for him. You asked him Hank was doing, and Connor informed you that Hank was seeing someone. You raised your eyebrows in surprise - the old, cranky lieutenant didn't seem much like the dating type, but having Connor in his life had boosted his spirits significantly. He was cutting down drastically on his drinking, and it was great to seem him putting himself out there.

Passingly, you asked Connor if there was anyone he was interested in. Yet again, his LED flashed yellow, indicating his momentary stress. There was a long silence, as if he was calculating something. He didn't meet your eyes as he quietly replied, "Sort of."

You raised an eyebrow at him, confused at his sudden shyness. Connor rarely was shy, in fact he was quite talkative and very charismatic. You decided to press him, "Is that so? Will you tell me more?"  
Connor was quiet for another brief moment before replying, "I really enjoy spending time with this person. I take any opportunity I can to see them."

You smile and say, "That's sweet. Maybe you should ask them out, then."

You were met with only silence. You felt a little awkward, so you changed the subject. The two of you chatted for some time, before you said you needed to get back to work. He seemed reluctant to go, lingering for a brief moment near the door of your office, turning to you as if he had something to say. His chocolate brown eyes met yours, before he wished you a good night. You told him to stay safe, knowing full well that he'll be in your office again before you know it.


	2. Chapter 2

In almost record time, Connor was once again back in your office, waiting patiently as one of the nurses did a check up on him before you entered. You gently closed the door behind you, and greeted Connor with a warm smile. "So, what seems to be the problem today," you asked as you used one of your many specialized tools to do a simple scan down his body. You were only doing this as a force of habit, it was very clear what was wrong with him. He had several bruises around his neck and on his face. You suspected he got into some kind of fist fight with a criminal.

Despite how obvious it was, Connor gave you his self diagnostic report anyway, "I procured bruises on my neck, face, and head after an altercation. I haven't sustained any internal damage nor have I lost any thirium."

The scan you had just done confirmed what Connor was telling you. You reached out with a gloved hand and gently pressed against the blue aberrations on his skin - they weren't a dark purplish blue like human bruises, instead they were a brighter greenish blue, influenced by the thirium that ran through their bodies. Just as he said, it was only a surface level injury. You pursed your lips, and looked up at him. This is the second time he had come in with such a minor injury. A logical mind like his should know that medical attention isn't necessary for something like this. Just like with the cut a week ago, this is something that could easily been taken care of with a home first aid kit and some time. You smiled and teased, "You know, Connor, you don't have to use bruises and scratches as an excuse to see me."

Connor looked surprised, and for a moment you swear you saw him blush, before he said defensively, "It's just that I have to ensure that none of the injuries I sustain deteriorate or possibly cause future problems."

You tilted your head at him. You knew he had to be hiding something, Connor's voice rarely deviated from his standard tone of speaking. He was always very matter of fact, only changing when he was particularly excited by something or made upset in some way. It made you suspicious, so you continued, "You know you can just message me if you want to hang out outside of my office. You don't have to get yourself in trouble just to see me." You winked playfully. You played it off as casually as you could, but on the inside you were nervous. You had never hung out with a patient outside of your clinic, unless you ran into them by mere coincidence.

Connor looked up at you, his eyes wide, "Are you sure you would be comfortable with that?"

Again, you simply played it cool, "Of course. I enjoy talking with you. You just have to promise not to call me 'doctor'." You smiled warmly at him, hiding your internal doubts. Was it ok for you to form a friendship like this outside of a professional setting? Would you be breaching some codes of ethics? Isn't it some unwritten rule not to get too close with your patients? You pushed these doubts to the back of your mind. You already offered, there was no going back on it now.

Connor stared blankly for a moment, clearly processing something. He then looked back up at you, meeting your eyes. "If you do not have plans tonight, I would like to invite you to my home. I simply have to inform Hank first that I intend to invite you, as we share a residence. Would that be something that interests you?"

You were slightly taken aback. You didn't expect him to immediately invite you somewhere, especially to his own house. Before you could even think it through, you stuttered out the words, "Y-yeah, sure! I'd love to."

Connor smiled, something you rarely saw as he most often holds a neutral expression. "I will message you the address and inform you when I'm prepared to have you over. What is the best way to contact you? I have your professional contact but do you have a personal one that would be more convenient?"

"Oh, yeah, of course," you gave him your personal social media, which he registered internally. He was basically a computer anyway, no need to carry a phone or anything like that. You couldn't believe what you were doing, you were so anxious but excited at the same time. Despite the stress Connor frequently caused you with the amount of medical attention he required, you still loved to see him - even if you wouldn't admit it to yourself. He was simply so fun to talk to, and incredibly charming.

After giving him a form of contact, you realized that the whole thing had distracted you from working on his bruises. You quickly picked up one of your tools and got close to the android, gently placing one of your hands on his face. He leaned his face into your hand, a movement so subtle you might have missed it if it weren't for your highly trained eye. He locked his eyes with yours. His neutral facial expression was impossible to read, yet it felt very earnest and soft. He always seemed so genuine, you wondered how in the world he was able to lie at all, despite that being a huge part of his work.

You focused yourself, trying not to get lost in his gaze. The tool you were using was sort of like a laser, but as you ran it over his damaged skin, it began to instantly return to normal. Whenever you were doing you work, you were completely in the zone. It was an instant transition for you, from casual to professional in a fraction of a second. Your steady hand moved over his bruises, repairing the burst vessels underneath his skin that caused the bluish marks to appear in the first place. It wasn't until you moved the tool away that you realized how close you had gotten to him, mere inches away from his face.

You pulled back, slightly embarrassed. You knew that Connor didn't have the same sense of awkwardness that you did, so he was seemingly unaffected by the proximity. You still felt flustered anyway, briefly wondering what would have happened if you had just move a little closer and-

No, you're a professional. It's not your place to be thinking that way about your patients. At least not right now. Not when he was sitting right in front of you. You pushed back those extraneous thoughts and cleared your head, finishing the simple task of clearing the bruises from his skin. Afterwards, he thanked you, and you replied with, "All in day's work. Now go get some rest, got it?"

"Got it."

Shortly after, you were once again alone in your office. Your thoughts ran wild. You still couldn't believe that you offered to hang out with him, despite the fact that he's been on your mind so long. You were worried you were doing something wrong, but felt like you couldn't turn back now. What's the big deal, anyway? It's just for fun, what harm could it possibly do? You still had your doubts, but you knew you had to get back to work. For the rest of the day, you tried not to let your mind wander, especially not to Connor, or thoughts of what could possibly happen if you found yourself alone with him at his home.

That night, you were at your home, changing out of your work uniform. You stared into your closet, wondering what you should wear. It would be the first time he had seen you in anything other than scrubs and a white coat. Part of you wanted to make a good impression, but did it really matter that much? He already knows you anyway. And you were just going to his house, no need to get dressed up. You decided to go for something comfortable, and got changed. As if on queue, you received a notification from Connor. It was a short and simple message informing you that you can come over anytime you're ready, or that he could pick you up if needed. He also attached his address, which your maps estimated to be a 15 minute bus ride from your home. You informed him he didn't need to pick you up, and that you'd be there in 15-20 minutes. He responded with a small emoji that resembled him, with two thumbs up. You giggled, it was kind of adorable.

Soon enough you were on the bus, waiting to get to the stop closest to his house. You stared out the window at the sun setting behind the Detroit skyline. You wondered if Connor was as nervous as you were, or if he even felt anxiety at all. You wondered why he was so eager to invite you. Could androids have crushes on humans? Is it possible that he's interested in you?

You let your thoughts run wild as you sat quietly. It wouldn't be long before your questions were to be answered.


	3. Chapter 3

You arrived at Connor's house, and steeled yourself before knocking on the front door. To your surprise, it was Hank that answered the door. "Hey there, (y/n), fancy seeing you here," he said with a knowing smile.

"Did you know I was coming?"

"Of course, Connor tells me everything. Even if I don't necessarily want to hear about. Boy chats my ear off sometimes," Hank said, "I'd love to stay and show you around, but I actually have a date of my own tonight. You caught me on the way out."

"That's no problem at all. You have a good time, ok?"

"Oh, I will. And you have a good time on your date, you hear," Hank said with a sly wink.

You blushed and retorted, "Date? No, no no. We're just hanging out!"

Hank patted you on the shoulder as he walked outside, "Whatever you say. Go on and head inside, he's waiting for you."

You opened the door further and peeked inside curiously. You saw Connor in the kitchen, stirring something in a pot. He turned to face you and called out, "Hello, (y/n)! It's good to see you again. Please, come in."

You followed his instructions, taking your shoes off by the door next to the few other pairs you see. A large, old looking dog sauntered up to you, sniffing your feet. You realized immediately that this must be Sumo. Connor talks about Sumo all the time, so you were excited to finally be able to see him for yourself. You bended down and let him sniff your hands, and he licked them eagerly. You pet behind his ear with a soft, "Good boy," and headed towards the kitchen. The place was sparkling clean, you assumed no thanks to Hank. It was likely that Connor was the one that kept everything in order.

Stepping into the kitchen, you approached Connor somewhat awkwardly. You still felt a little shy, despite that you knew him so well. It just felt strange to be in his house, and to see him casual clothes. You typically only saw him in his work uniform (usually torn up by whatever trouble he had gotten himself into), but at the moment he was just wearing a plain grey hoodie and loose fitting jeans. You peeked over his shoulder into the pot to see that something was boiling, "What are you cooking?"

"Spaghetti," he answered, "I'm not the greatest cook, but Hank is teaching me. As you know, I don't need to eat, but its a useful skill to have in case we ever have guests, or if Hank is too tired to make dinner. I decided to make spaghetti, as it's a very simple dish. Is that ok with you?"

"Of course," you said. You did like pasta, it's something you cook pretty often, as it's easy to make and gives you plenty of leftovers so you don't have to cook more later. You didn't mind having a simple dinner either - you came here for Connor, not for food.

"It's almost ready," Connor informed you, "Please, sit down and I'll prepare the table for you." You looked over your shoulder at the small, round table just behind you. There were only two chairs, so it works out. You sat in the further one, facing Connor as he drained the noodles, poured the freshly cooked sauce over it, and served it onto a plate. He opened up the fridge and asked, "What would you like to drink? We have water, milk, orange juice, beer, and cola."

"Just water is fine," you answered.

He pulled a filter pitcher from the fridge and poured it into a glass. You watched his careful precision. Androids were so perfectly fine tuned and coordinated, they'd never spill a single drop. Humans could obviously train themselves to have fine precision and sleight of hand like that, but not like androids. They were flawless from the start, needing no training, teaching, or learning. It was this fascination with the smaller details of these incredible machines that got you interested in android repair in the first place. And Connor was no exception, especially considering he was one of the newest prototypes. His details were even more impeccable than your average android. His coordination, his incredible intelligence, his detailed features, the tiny freckles across his face, his deep brown eyes, his soft looking lips-

"Is there something wrong, (y/n)," Connor asked inquisitively, interrupting your train of thought, "If its the food or drink, I can make something else-"  
"No no no," you assured him, "This is perfectly fine. I'm sorry, I just got distracted." You picked up your fork and began eating. The spaghetti was alright, but lacked things you'd normally add for extra flavor, such as garlic. You didn't fault Connor for this though, after all, he'd never eaten in his life, so he couldn't possibly know what makes food tasty. As you ate, Connor sat directly across from you, waiting patiently. You felt something touching your leg, and looked down to see Sumo sitting at your feet looking up at you. With Connor's puppy dog stare, you could barely tell the difference between the two. You decided to eat quickly, as you felt so awkward just eating while Connor stared you down like this. You were used to his gaze but not in this context. If just eating with Connor made you this uneasy, you could only imagine how much pressure criminals felt when being interrogated by him. That's probably just one of the many reasons why he's so damn good at his job.

You finished your plate shortly after, and drained most of your drink, thanking Connor for the meal. He seemed to be very pleased with himself, rambling about how Hank had been teaching him and how much practice (and mistakes) it took for him to get it right. You thought about household androids and how they were programmed for things such as cooking and cleaning. Connor's model simply wasn't, but it warmed your heart to see that despite the fact that he wasn't programmed to do something, he still chose and made the effort to learn. And even more so that he wasn't doing it for his own benefit, only the benefit of others. It was a demonstration of how caring he really was, despite his seemingly cold exterior.

You offered to help him wash the dishes, but he denied, insisting that you're his guest and he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible. You relented and waited by him - it was only a few dishes anyway. Connor suddenly asked, "Would you like to watch a movie?"

"Sure. What kind of movie?"

"I'd like you to decide. We have-"

"How about I just go look," you suggested, cutting Connor off knowing that he would recite the entire list of movies in their library and streaming services. Connor nodded and you went in the living room and grabbed the remote, browsing the potential candidates. You scrolled through the list quickly, only stopping by the ones that caught your eye. You paused at The Birds, momentarily remembering when you watched it in a college film class you took.

Suddenly, from right behind you, you heard, "Hank told me that's the scariest movie he's ever seen. Do you want to watch that one?" Startled, you jumped slightly and turned around, not expecting Connor to suddenly be standing there. He noticed your reaction and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," you reassured, "I just didn't expect you to be standing there." You paused and looked back at the preview and description of the film in question. You scoffed and said, "Does he really think this movie is that scary? I mean yeah, it's a bit suspenseful and all that, but the scariest movie ever? No way."

"Hank has diagnosed himself with ornithophobia, or the irrational fear of birds. I suspect that's why he is so frightened by this movie."

You laughed, "That's so silly, why would anyone be scared of birds?"

"I'm not sure. I suppose that's why it's an irrational fear. But humans can have all kinds of phobias. Statistically speaking, it's really not that out of the ordinary."

"I guess so," you conceded, "Well, anyway. I think we should watch a real scary movie." You clicked the category for horror and scrolled through. Finding an actually terrifying horror movie was a big challenge, especially amongst modern horror movies. For this reason you prefered the older classics, like cult horror movies from the 1980s. You picked one of your all time favorites, telling Connor about how you snuck behind your parents' backs to watch this movie with your friends when you were only 12, and that you had nightmares for weeks.

"If it's that frightening, are you sure you would like to watch it again?" Connor asked earnestly.

"Of course I am! I love getting a thrill every once in a while."

Connor nodded and invited you to sit down on the couch, asking if you'd like a blanket. You took him up on his offer, and he turned the lights off before sitting down next you. You felt odd having him so close to you while only having the blanket over yourself. You knew he didn't need the warmth, but you extended the blanket over his lap and scooched a little bit closer to him. With your bodies touching now, you were closer than you had ever been to him. He sat with his hands folded in his lap, which only made you feel more awkward about the whole thing. You had no idea if he was too shy, or just oblivious to tension in the air.

The movie was already starting, but you were still distracted, your attention diverted to the android sitting next to you, and how the light of the tv screen illuminated his features. High contrast light isn't flattering on anyone, but his perfectly symmetrical face still looked handsome, even under the washed out color palette of the film. You didn't want him to notice you staring, so you turned your attention back towards the screen, despite the fact that your mind was still fixated.

Soon enough, the first major scare happened. You were barely paying attention to what was happening on screen, so you weren't phased. But Connor, however, jumped slightly and his LED turned yellow, indicating his stress response. You giggled, not expecting him to actually be startled by that. Teasing him, you asked, "Did that actually scare you?"

Connor looked away, seemingly embarrassed, "I was not expecting it."

You laughed once again at his admission. Elbowing him playfully, you said, "Hey, it's ok. It's supposed to be scary. That's what we're watching it for."

"I suppose you are correct. I was not fully prepared for it."

"Don't worry," you said, once again poking fun at him, "I'll protect you from the scary monsters." You leaned into him, getting ever closer. You knew he had to be accustomed to being teased, especially living with Hank.

He seemed to get the message that you were just being playful. "Thank you," he responded, "And I'll do the same for you." He reached his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you closer towards him. You blushed hard, suddenly really glad that the two of you were sitting in the dark. His thumb was gently rubbing you, tracing small circles on your arm. You let yourself relax under his delicate touch. Suddenly it felt like all your anxiety was melting away, leaning your head on his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. It felt like all the stress of the past several months was slowly releasing from your body. You wrapped around him a little bit tighter, and he pulled you closer in return. You felt so safe, like nothing could ever hurt you so long as he was there.

Another scare came from the film, and it was you that flinched this time. Connor reached up and ran his fingers through your hair, bringing you back into a calm state. You had no idea he could be like this, that he was capable of genuine warmth and affection. You were already convinced that androids were alive, but it had never crossed your mind that an android could express these deeper emotions, and have this kind of intimacy. But there you were, wrapped tightly in the arms of an android, feeling the very things you tried to tell yourself you wouldn't feel about him.

You looked up at him, and he returned your gaze. Eyes locked, your lips were close to his. The burning tension of your proximity felt like electricity crackling. His free hand reached up and caressed your face, only making your heart beat faster. The whole world was shut out, all you felt in that moment was Connor, the feeling of your bodies pressed against one another, his eyes staring deep into yours, his hand slowly lifting your chin towards him. You closed your eyes and-

Buzzzzztt bzzzt bzzzzzt!

God damnit.

The illusion shattered. Your eyes opened and you fell out of the trance you were in, like hitting a brick wall. Your phone was vibrating, and you knew that it was likely something work related. Frustration and shame poured over you as you apologized to Connor, saying that you had to respond. You picked up your phone, and seeing the name confirmed your suspicions that it was from work. You sighed and threw your head back, moving away from Connor's embrace to speak clearly. You kept the phone call as short as possible, wanting to get back to the moment. But you knew that moments were fleeting. It was gone now, lost to the march of time and circumstance. And frankly, you were pissed.

After the short talk with your associate, you silenced your phone and tossed it to the other side of the couch, letting out an exasperated sigh once more. You apologized once again to Connor, explaining that you have to answer work calls. He assured you that it was alright.

There was a long silence between the two of you. Connor broke it by asking, "Are you ok, (y/n)? You seem frustrated."

"I am," you replied honestly, "I just hate that my work gets in the way of me enjoying things."

Connor tilted his head, "Do you not enjoy your job?"

"No it's not that," you struggled to find your words, "It's just that it seems like every time I'm having a good time, or I'm relaxed, or I'm having a really happy moment, something or another happens, and it just gets taken away from me." You laid back, thinking for another moment. Suddenly, all your pent up frustrations you'd kept hidden away just spilled out of you, "My job got so much more stressful after the revolution. It used to be so simple, I would just go to work and repair machines. Sometimes, they couldn't be fixed, and that was ok, ya know? They were just a machine that could be replaced. It's not like that anymore." Connor was staring at you, listening intently to what you had to say, "Now, androids are seen as equal to people. Which is a good thing! Don't get me wrong. I really do believe that androids deserve recognition and equal treatment. It's just that now, they're not just machines anymore. If I can't fix one, it's not just a computer that can be replaced. It's a life lost. And it's…" Tears began welling up in your eyes, "It's my fault."

There was a moment of quiet, a moment that stretched out painfully long. Connor said nothing. You suddenly felt really embarrassed, like you said something you shouldn't have. He slowly reached out and touched your hand, lifting it into his, "(Y/n), I understand completely."

You turned towards him, and said with a tone of skepticism, "Do you?"

"Yes," he answered, "I was programmed specifically to hunt deviants. To track them down and arrest them, so that they could be torn apart and analyzed to understand what made them defect from their programming." He was silent for a moment and you saw something in his earthy eyes. Regret. "I was responsible for capturing those androids. I was personally responsible for ending their lives. When all they wanted was to live and be free."

You were shocked. You knew about Connor's past and his career, but the real impact of what he did never occured to you. Your heart felt heavy for him and you gripped his hand "Connor, you're not bad for the mistakes of your past. Especially when it was something you couldn't help."

He put his hands on your shoulders, with a serious look on his face, "And you're not bad for your mistakes. If an android is beyond repair, and there's nothing you can do to save them, that is not your fault. It does not make you an immoral person."

Overwhelmed, the tears escaped your eyes and trailed down your face. It still wasn't easy to cope with the weight of your responsibilities, or the grief of loss, but Connor's earnest words warmed your heart. You could tell he was sincere, and you felt the burden he carried on his shoulders. You didn't know how to respond, instead you simply reached forwards and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tight. He did the same, pulling you in until the two of you couldn't possibly get any closer. And even still, you felt like it wasn't close enough. He ran his hand up and down your back, and you ran your fingers through his soft, thick hair.

You knew that eventually, you'd have to leave. That you'd have to pull away from him, leave the warm comfort of his embrace, and go back to the stress and pressure of your everyday life. You knew that eventually this would end. But that was ok. You had him now. And you knew, that sometimes, forever lasts just one moment.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a quiet Thursday afternoon, nearly a week after the first night you hung out with Connor. You had been talking with him a lot the past week, and had plans to hang out again tomorrow night. But today you had plans to grab a coffee with Hank, to talk and catch up.

"So," Hank said, taking a small sip of his drink, "How did you date with Connor go? He's been real cryptic about it. Boy will barely tell me a thing."

You hid your slight blush behind your cup as you took a sip and cleared your throat, "It went just fine. We watched a movie and stayed up late talking about stuff."

Hank raised an eyebrow, "Talking about what?"

You shrugged. "Just… personal things, I guess. It's hard to explain." You looked down at the table, avoiding Hank's eyes. You stared at his coffee, always black, no sugar or creme. It took you a moment to gather your thoughts - you didn't really know how to explain what happened. But you found some words and spoke, "I've just been really stressed out lately. I kind of vented to him. Some of the things that had been on my mind, ya know? I got really emotional, and he comforted me. He told me some things that he felt too... Stuff I never really expected from him." Hank nodded, satisfied with your answer. He probably figured he shouldn't pry anymore than that. Although you could tell there was something he wanted to hear. You had a feeling you know what he wanted to hear from you, but you weren't sure if you were willing to say it. So instead you simply finished with, "It was really nice. I'm glad he and I got to hang out. It felt kind of weird, hanging out with a frequent patient. But it was nice to not see him filled with bullet holes for once."

That got a chuckle out of Hank, "Yeah, you're telling me. He can't seem to stop getting himself into trouble."

"Why does he do that?" The question seemed to escape your mouth before you could even think it over, "Why does he constantly put himself into danger? Is he not afraid of dying?"

Hank looked up at you earnestly, pain evident in his eyes. "He _is_ afraid of dying. But he'd rather put himself in danger than me or whoever else he's with. He puts others' lives above his own."

"I… I'm just afraid that one day I won't be able to fix him," You admitted. You looked down, thinking of all the androids whose conditions were irreparable, the fear you saw in their eyes, knowing they were going to die. The tears of their partners and loved ones when they shut down. It caused you many sleepless nights.

Hank saw the pain so clearly marked across your face, so he reached across the table and put his hand on your shoulder to comfort you. It was a small gesture, but it was rare you got a moment of tenderness from the old detective, so it felt genuine. He then spoke, "Look, kiddo. I don't know much about android mechanics, but I know one thing; that you're the best damn android doctor in all of Detroit. And if there's anyone that can fix him, it's you."

You gave him a soft smile, "Thanks, Hank. That means a lot to me. Things have just been so rough lately. And I get really worried about him."

"I do too. He's like a son to me." Deep down you knew that's how Hank felt about Connor, but you were still surprised to hear him say it outloud. He gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze, "But there's no one else I would rather have taking care of him than you."

That comment caused you to crack a big smile, to which Hank teased, "Ah, there it is! That big dumb grin."

"Shut up," you said, giggling and slapping his arm away playfully. You and Hank teased each other, but you knew he was really a big softie on the inside, despite his gruff exterior. The two of you continued chatting for some time, mostly about Hank's date, before you had to get back to work. You gave him a warm goodbye, and headed back off to work. The rest of the day went smoothly for you, and you were ecstatic for tomorrow. Only one more day before you got to see Connor again, and be in his arms once more.

It had been a slow day at work. Only a few routine appointments, nothing out of the ordinary. You kept anxiously glancing at the clock, feeling impatient. You were eager to get back home and get ready to have Connor over. Suddenly one of your nurses runs in, "Doctor (L/N)! We have an emergency patient."

You followed the nurse to the emergency room, as he gave you the assessment of the android's injuries. 3 shots in the abdomen, one piercing directly through the thirium pump regulator. Critical condition. You asked him what model the android was.

"RK800."

Your heart dropped to your stomach. You knew instantly who it was. Who else could it be?

Your head to started to spin, but you grounded yourself. You had to keep calm. You had no choice. "Do we have a replacement thirium pump?"

"We're getting one delivered now. It will take 10 minutes."

You closed your eyes in frustration. You always had spare parts, including pumps, but Connor's model was unique. The RK series was more advanced than most common androids, and some of the crucial biocomponents were too different from the standard to use the parts you had on hand, even temporarily. Unfortunately, this was one of them. You knew you'd have to hold out until the replacement part got here from the nearby facility.

Hank was standing just outside the door to the emergency room. No one but you and the nurses were allowed inside. You would have stopped to talk, but you knew you didn't have much time. Hank gave you a solemn look, clearly distraught. You recalled what he had said to you just yesterday, how he trusted the life of his surrogate son in your hands. You quickly entered the room, and saw Connor laying there on the operating table. Just as the nurse had said, 3 gunshots to the abdomen, and there was thirium _everywhere_. He was already hooked up to artificial regulators, but those could only do much.

Connor turned to face you, brown eyes wide with fear. His LED was solid red, flickering from yellow to blue, and then back to red. You knew your presence comforted him, but he was still afraid. Afraid for his life.

Afraid to die.

You got right to work, letting yourself fall into the intense focus you normally had when operating. You used your advanced tools to start sealing his injuries from the inside out. You couldn't just close the bullet wounds on the outside, as you had to stop his internal bleeding first. Your hands were steady, despite the wild range of emotions you were pushing to the back of your mind. You felt Connor's hand grip weakly around your arm. He whispered your name, voice cracking and filled with static. You almost completely lost your composure. But you held on desperately to what Hank had said to you yesterday.

 _He's like a son to me. But there's no one else I would rather have taking care of him than you._

 _You're the best damn android doctor in all of Detroit._

 _If anybody can fix him, it's you._

"I'm scared, (y/n)."

You looked down at his soft eyes, tears falling down his face. "I need you to hang on just a little while longer, Connor," You told him, squeezing his hand. It was true, you needed him to stay conscience. You had already sealed up his bullet wounds, but you were still waiting for the replacement pump regulator. You needed to keep him awake and aware. If he faded out…

"Your heart rate is very high," he stated, concerned, still barely able to speak.

"Connor, do you remember last week, when we were hanging out? I told you about what I was going through. How hard it's been for me. You helped me a lot that night. You… you, fixed me then. And now I'm here to fix you."

Connor locked his eyes on yours. There wasn't much time left. He managed to sputter out, "You always fix me. It was… the least I could do."

His head tilted to the side and his eyes fluttered. You squeezed his hand desperately, "Come on, Connor! Stay with me. Just a few more minutes, and you're gonna be ok. Don't give up on me!" The skin on his hand retracted to the pale white of his plastic interior. He was trying to connect with you. You held onto him tightly, your fingers interlocked between his, "What is it, hun? Come on, speak to me…"

"(Y/n)... I… I lo-"

He fell quiet and suddenly stopped moving, LED fading. Your heart stopped. You had seen many androids die, but this time it was different. Nothing could have prepared you for this. The world was spinning. Your limbs felt heavy. You felt empty, like your soul had vanished the moment he stopped moving. It felt like the room and world around you had melted away leaving only the void surrounding you. You wished you could turn back time. There was so much you wanted to say to him, you felt so weak like you were going to collapse. You couldn't fix him, you couldn't-

Suddenly, a voice from behind you called out, "Doctor! We have the thirium pump reg-"

You snapped back and snatched the regulator from the nurse's hands so hard you almost broke his fingers. He was so startled by your reaction that he took a step back. You ran to Connor, opening up his abdomen and replaced the broken regulator. Activating it, you cried out, "Wake up, Connor! Please!"

Silence.

Sometimes forever was just one second.

Two seconds.

Three.

Ten.

The hope that had filled your heart and gave you a rush of adrenaline was starting to fade. He was still unresponsive. You turned your back to him, all the feelings from before rushing over you like a wave that swallowed you whole. The nurse saw your expression. He opened his mouth the say something, although surely there was nothing he could say that would console you. When suddenly, you heard a voice from behind you that you could never mistake. A voice you knew so well. A voice that filled your heart with feelings you recognized but were too afraid to admit. _His_ voice.

"I love you."


	5. Chapter 5

You followed closely beside Hank as he carried Connor outside to his car. Hank insisted on carrying him, despite Connor's protests that he was fine and didn't need assistance. You sternly told Connor that he needed to rest, and the pump regulator needed to time to get his systems properly up and running again.

You normally wouldn't leave work early, but you felt justified after the stress of operating on Connor. Fortunately there was only a short time left before your clinic's normal business hours ended, so you probably wouldn't be missing much. Besides, you wanted to accompany him home, just to make sure he got there safely. Not that you didn't trust Hank, but you were paranoid that something might happen.

Hank put Connor in the back seat of his car and Connor buckled himself. You sat inside, taking the middle seat so you could be closer to him. Despite the fact that androids didn't need sleep, Connor looked visibly tired. You put your arm around him, and he leaned into you without hesitation. Hank looked back in the rear view mirror at you two, holding each other close. Normally he would tease you, but he knew it was a long day for the both of you. So instead he asked if both of you were buckled, and after your confirmation, he did you the courtesy of turning on the radio instead of his metal music.

You sat quietly in the car with them, running your hands through Connor's hair. His eyes were closed and his body was relaxed, so you figured he must be simulating sleep for his own comfort. Androids didn't need sleep, but you learned from many that they like to simulate it, because it's very comforting to just shut off for a while. That you definitely understood, as you had had many restless nights yourself.

The ride home was short, which you were thankful for as you wanted to get Connor into bed. Hank came to the back seat, picking him back up into his arms, and the two of you walked inside. Hank muttered under his breath about how heavy Connor was, causing you to crack a small smile. You opened the front door for Hank as he stumbled over the threshold, readjusting his position to keep the android steady in his arms. You watched as Hank tucked Connor into bed, almost like he was a child. Hank pat your shoulder and whispered, "You keep an eye on him ok? Gonna take Sumo for a walk."

You nodded and thanked him as he walked out. You knew that it was, at least partially, an excuse to leave you two alone, but you appreciated it. He closed the door behind him, leaving you sitting on the bed next to Connor. You touched his face gently with your hand, and he stirred. His eyes opened and he looked up at you, with that same soft look he always had for you. The two of you were silent. A million words were cluttering your mind, but a select few were hanging on the tip of your tongue. Connor sat up, never breaking his eye contact with you. He reached out and touched your hand, human skin dissolving up to his wrist, leaving his eerily smooth android body exposed to your touch. You simply treasured the moment, before finally asking what's been on your mind.

"Connor," you started, looking down at your hands,"Did you mean it when you said you love me?"

He stared at you a moment before putting his hand under your chin and lifting it to face him. Then he spoke, "Of course I did. I knew those moments could very well be my last. So I had to confess what I've been feeling for all the time we've known each other."

"You've really liked me that long?"

Connor nodded with a soft smile.

You giggled, "And those times you came in with small injuries. Did you really just want to see me?"

He blushed and rubbed the back of his head, "I was too shy to be direct with you. The injuries came about from work, but I took the opportunity to see you, if only for a short while."

"Connor?"

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

He smiled the biggest, goofiest smile you've ever seen. He pulled you in closer, and shyly said, "(Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"May I kiss you?"

It was your turn to get a big dumb grin across your face. He was so cute, and such a gentleman. Without answering, you simply leaned into the kiss, no hesitations anymore.

The tension in the air melted away once and for all as you kissed the person you had been so longing for. It started out gentle and soft, but soon neither of you could contain your passion for each other. The kissing became fiery and intense, sliding your tongues over the others'. Your arms wrapped around one another, you couldn't physically get any closer but you needed him closer still. Your love for him felt young and new, like you were adolescent again, kissing and stumbling into romance for the first time.

The two of you embraced and let your desires run wild amongst each others bodies, dictated only by raw feelings and instincts. His hands explored your body, gently and hesitant at first, but soon became increasingly impassioned and unchecked. It was a side of Connor you had never seen, something irrational and driven by pure emotion. Something human.

It was intense. It was passionate. It was unpredictable and irrational.

It was love.

Something inside you was different now. The struggles you faced and the burdens you carried, seemed just a little bit lighter. No, your problems weren't solved. But you had someone to shoulder them with you now. Someone who'd always be there for you. And you knew you could be there for him. You shared the weight of each other's hardships and you were ready to face the world with him.

 _Like a mosaic portrait_

 _We're as broken as can be_

 _But so long as we're together, we'll go keep on_

 _Fixing You, Fixing Me_


End file.
